The Wasteland
by Gibson18
Summary: This is a story concerning how Robo came to be left in Proto dome and how the people living there had met their end. It also contains the lifestyle and mindset of the people who lived just a generation after the Great Catastrophy. Rated M for violence and language.
1. The pursuit of the sentries

_**The Wasteland**_

_By: Gibson22_

My elders had told me that this used to be a lush forest between gleaming cities.

I look at it now and see no remnant of its former glory. Instead, everything was scorched black as if the very dust itself was burned on that day. I lay in the backseat of a machine that had begun to show its age. It creaked and sputtered as it hovered through the wasteland a foot off the ground. Even though it was old, it was still very fast and I had to hold onto my helmet as we went past a dilapidated building that used to be hundreds of feet tall.

Going through the cities was the worst and most depressing part of these trips. Occasionally, thick rubble did well in covering up the skeletons of those who used to inhabit these cities, but every once in a while a strong gust of wind would reveal their fire bleached bones. Once I saw an entire family of skeletons huddled together as if they were hoping their love and their bonds would save them. There was an adult clutching a baby, but it appeared as if some debris from that day had crushed its skull. It was enough to make me cry.

"Janice! How is the cargo?"

I looked at the hunk of junk behind me. It was scattered into many pieces, wires sticking out left and right, some of them bare. The metal casing of a robot was rusted and full of holes, but it seemed the most important part of it was operational: the UGEE engine and the CFC units were in perfect condition. I simply sneered at it with disgust. I hated robots.

"The piece of shit is just fine."

"Watch your language around me."

We had gathered it earlier that day while scavenging through ruins. That was what we did every single day. We would board this crappy machine, ride off into some depressing ruin that served as a cemetery, find what we could and salvage it. However, my uncle was in a rare mood; A happy one that is. We had found a robot that was still functional. Sure, it was not functioning at the moment, but all it needed was to have its battery recharged and it would be back on its feet. Well, it actually _needed_ feet first, but you get the idea. It was a fixer-upper, but far better then the things we usually find.

"Uncle? Did you say that all this changed when that monster came?"

He nodded grimly as he replied in the affirmative. It was not a pleasant conversation for him, because his father was in the army when it had happened. It was a common story in this era; a boy separated from his father, a mother separated from her daughter, whole families torn apart in violent explosions and flames. It was almost as if he had undergone a tragic war at a young age. He no longer seemed to have too much emotion in his heart, having gone through more pain than anyone could imagine. You would think that it would be worse for the children living in the aftermath, not having the chance to experience all that happiness that existed before it was taken away. I was one of the few who disagreed with that. For me, it is far worse to have and then have it taken away.

Whoever said, "It is better to have loved than to not love at all" should be brutally murdered.

My uncle loved his dad; he loved his family (who had died from fierce fevers) and his life before the coming of that demon. Now that it was all taken away from him, he really could not afford to love anything else. He was drained, a hollow husk that would only seem to carry out things mindlessly. It almost seemed as if his spirit had already left and his body operated on its own.

There was not another word spoken in between us. He only kept on driving while I removed my hat and held my AK-47 with both hands. It was a rarity when we were attacked by anything, but nowadays there is no better substitute for protection than a high-powered weapon of destruction. I was a vicious teenager, ready to blow anything into little bits. I found that being so aggressive kept me alive and wanting to make things better. I imagine if I were to turn out like my uncle I would die of sadness and boredom. I felt the slick metal and barrel brush up against the shin of my right leg and I felt extremely anxious to use it.

Usually, that meant only one thing…

Chills went down my spine as I heard some distant rattling. I strained my ears, and jerked my head in every direction to see where the sound came from. Without another word I pressed the butt of the gun into my shoulder, still keeping an eye out for anything that moved. My uncle did not look back, but he was able to tell that something had stirred my interest. "Use your binocular."

I obliged, reaching under my helmet and pulling down a single piece of circular glass that was attached to a hallow shaft. It was a really handy device, one that was developed before the day the world had come to an end. The gist of it was simple. It was a binocular that went over a single eye. It was no larger than an eyeglass, but it there was a small dial connected to the side. With a simple turn it would increase the magnification and the distance of sight. It was useful in spotting trouble before it found us and it was important in this very situation. It also kept my hands free but keeping a sight out at the same time.

I looked behind us and there was nothing there but large gusts of dust that flew into the sky from the wake of our vehicle. I looked to our surrounding sides and saw nothing else as well. Then I looked to the front…

"Oh shit!"

"I told you not to say that."

"We have sentries three hundred yards ahead, and they are blocking the way to the dome!"

Sentries were vicious robots that were more reminiscent to a type of spider. They had six, long metallic legs that had pointed ends. The legs were then connected to a bulbous head which housed demonic looking red eyes that only acted as visual receptors. They were about the size of the average human torso. I loathed them the same way others would loath scorpions. They would sting you with their legs; only instead of poison they would inject volts of electricity into your body until you went into cardiac arrest. They were fast as well, having been designed that way for use in combat ages past. It was almost like that demon that destroyed the world left the worst behind so that we would suffer in our poverty. A sentry was a bit of a problem, but facing twenty of them was a nightmare come true. Also, we could not simply skid to a stop and turn around. It would take only a few moments, but by then the horde would be upon us, tearing us to shreds with their pointed legs…

"Get up here then! Sweep them with as much fire as you can on my signal!"

I clambered over the back seat, sitting up front with my uncle. It was a little difficult because my uncle had suddenly accelerated and was rapidly gaining speed as we careened toward the small army of metal monsters. I was lucky to have not fallen backwards. Even still, I was poised in a battle position, waiting until we were close enough to fire. I was able to guess his method of getting past the creatures: we would charge them headfirst, hoping that the gunfire would scatter the majority of them.

I pulled the trigger with some effort and the barrel exploded into a cascade of burning metal. I was able to see the damage through my binocular and it had the desired effect. A few stray bullets had damaged some of their mobility, but they were still fast enough to dive out of the way of oncoming fire. I yelled in an effort to raise my spirits and aggression as I proceeded to empty out my entire clip. The tracers blazed in the air, and if I were paying attention to their path I could see the puffs of dirt or the sudden bursts of sparks when they made contact, but I was only shooting down the middle to clear a path.

We passed by the group of sentries, hitting a few and hearing their hard bodies clang on the heavily welded underbelly of the machine. The sentries were far from finished as I had expected. Their legs began to whirl loudly as the gears began to turn within them, allowing them to follow at an unbelievable speed. In the old days, these machines were used to take out high speed combat vehicles, so my crappy old piece of junk was only a crash course for them. I quickly jumped into the backseat, scrapping my shin against a piece of rusted metal. Still, I paid no mind as I quickly reached into a bag that contained clip after clip of bullets.

I was well trained by the old veterans that lived in the domes. Our lives were rough, and if you were to go outside you wouldn't last long unless you had some strength or skill on your side. Thankfully, I had both and I was more than happy to use them. My articulate fingers removed the clip with a press of the button and I reached for another cartridge, jamming it into the chamber.

The binocular had outlived its usefulness and I hastily pushed it back into my helmet. The enemy was very close to the rear of the hover car; close enough that if they timed it right they could leap onto the back. I did not take a headcount, but around five were about to make the jump. My eyes scanned for the nearest one, and there was a single sentry that was only a few feet from the rear.

"Take this!" I squeezed the trigger and more hot lead exploded into the metallic body of a single sentry. It began to lose speed, but it continued its pursuit. I switched my target momentarily until it would be a threat to me again. "You want some more, you little bitch? Bring it on!" Another started from the rear. "C'mon! You cold piece of shit!" The ground below them was a blur, but as their feet pounded against the surface I could see pebbles fly from the ground only to roll to a stop and become part of the blur once again. It was the same with my gun whenever I missed a shot.

I was screaming obscenities, but my uncle didn't seem to notice as we approached a highroad that lay in between crumbled buildings. He did not turn around but shouted out a warning that we were approaching the old town city limits. That was very bad news, because urban terrain was the most suitable for their purposes. Suddenly, the dirt road became rocky gravel that had broken in several places. "Sit down, Janice! We're going to do some evasive driving!"

I quickly obeyed and not a moment too soon. A large boulder from a fallen building obscured the path and my uncle jerked the wheel just in time. That did not slow down the sentry, who had used it as a sort of ramp. To my surprise he flew high into the air, landing with a thud on the back of the vehicle. I yelled as I unloaded on the monster at point blank, its legs curling and flailing like a dying spider. It managed to puncture the bodywork of the hover car and it still stands to me as a testament of what those deadly legs could do if they found human skin.

"Janice! They're weaving in between the buildings!"

That was what made them so deadly in an urban environment. In a field they cannot help but be seen, but in an area heavy with obstructions and distractions they could blend in perfectly. They were covered by the blurs of street lights, boulders and shattered cars. They zigzagged across the road only to go to the other side. I could not get a clear shot of them. "Janice! To your right!" I looked to the left of the vehicle to see a sentry flying towards me with its legs outstretched. I let out a scream of surprise as I hastily pointed the gun at his direction and fired. The force of the blasts sent him reeling in midair, only to land on the ground below, rolling and shattering his body on the street as it came to a stop.

I realized that I only had destroyed only two so far and there were more gaining on us. The rest of the crew had returned and they were zigzagging across the roads and buildings just as their comrades had done. Their red eyes clicked and whirled as they focused only on their targets. I cussed in frustration, reluctantly acknowledging that their mechanical eyes were far superior to mine. Then an idea flowed into my mind and I called myself an idiot when I realized I had forgotten it. I pulled down another binocular, but this one was different.

Another invention of war was available at my fingertips. There were many advances along the fields of different visions. As the world began to include machines into their mandate of battle, so had they included a way to easily spot them. It was a type of sight known as RES (Residual Electronic Sight). This type of binocular was able to pick up electronic pulses and signals, displaying it on the binocular as blue dots where the electricity was prevalent. The sentries' main point of weakness when it came to this device was the fact that the electricity was close to their mobility and CFC units. All the most important parts of the machine were in the head of the sentry.

I smiled in triumph as a group of scattered blue dots came into my view. The binocular could pick up the pulse, even if they ran behind debris that littered the sides of the streets. I was little frightened when I realized that some were a few stories above us, running by our side and capable of jumping on us at anytime. They had to go first. If they could experience surprise, I imagined they would have learned its true meaning as I pointed my gun towards them when they were previously unseen. Bullet shells spilled out of the chamber as I saw the effect on the machine through my RES.

I worked on the group that was still above us, glancing to the buildings and the street frequently. My strategy had changed and I focused on one sentry at a time. I could see them burst into a seizure of volts and flames out of my one eye while my other saw the blue dots disappear, occasionally bursting into a violent fit of dots as their electricity jolted out of their dented bodies.

Suddenly I screamed as a sentry rapidly fell towards us.

My uncle was very intuitive and he jerked his vehicle to the left. I fell back due to the sudden change in direction, hitting the bottom of my head on the side. I swore as I copiously rubbed where I had been hit. The sentry itself had missed the vehicle and tumbled onto the ground, spinning like a saw blade, its legs breaking from the speed. I felt my eyes drift as my world spun around. Then I felt a heavy hand slap the top of my helmet and a voice boomed out, "Stay with me Janice! We are almost in the clear!"

We were topside in this battle against the sentries. However, a few hundred yards ahead of us was an old tunnel. All machines were programmed to quickly analyze their probability of success in all situations, and in an enclosed space with no debris, a sentry stood no chance and would be nothing more than a sitting duck. My uncle grunted as he slammed his foot against the pedal, and the car slowed for a moment before it went into a violent burst of speed. The sentries had begun to speed up as well, quickly realizing how drastically low their chances of success would be if we made it to the tunnel. I was dizzy and that is not a condition you would want to be in if you had a gun. Nevertheless, I leaned against a seat with the shoulder that held the barrel of the AK-47. I tried my best to focus my eyes, but they seemed to roll lazily in my sockets. I pulled the trigger and a hot steam of lead bounced all over the area behind us as the sentries scattered from the aim. They were confused, not knowing that I was beginning to lose consciousness, and they were not certain whether or not I was capable of aiming.

"Stay awake, Janice!" My uncle shouted in a warning tone.

It was so hard and my vision was becoming hazy. My arms were beginning to seem heavy, and somewhere in my mind I told myself that my uncle could make the tunnel and that I did not need to worry. Yet, he continued to yell to keep me focused and I did so grudgingly. My shots were going nowhere, but it still confused the sentries who would occasionally receive a bullet or at least come close to being grazed. Suddenly it became dark as we entered the dimly light tunnel, but I thought it was my own eyes going dark which only encouraged me more to fall asleep.

And I obliged…

Author's Note: Um…I don't own the Chrono Trigger franchise. All characters excluding Robo are original creations.


	2. Home Sweet Home

The Wasteland

When my eyes fluttered open I saw gray sky and realized I was still outside. The veterans' training had been so ingrained in me that my thought process had become as mechanical as a computer processing code. Therefore, to a person who had not known our ways in Proto, my actions occurred instantly as if I had not thought of anything at all. The thoughts had gone through my head like so:

Command: Assess your current state of being.

_You received a bump to your head. As a result you went unconscious._

Inquire: Were you under assault?

_Yes._

Inquire: Were you conscious at the conclusion of the conflict?

_No._

Inquire: Are you in the infirmary?

_No._

Inquire: Are you someplace safe?

_I am topside. Topside is not safe. Therefore, I am not somewhere safe._

Final prognosis: You are still in conflict. The enemy might have gained advantage over you. Quickly! Find your weapon and rejoin.

Almost as if it were a twitch, I had jolted upwards and found my weapon on the floor of the vehicle. My vision went white from the sudden stress I put on my body. Nonetheless, only in retrospect did I heed it. I did not know about the bandage wrapped around my head nor did I even give my ears a chance to listen for any signs of struggle. If they had, I would have noticed that there was only the sound of the wind and the gentle hum of the vehicle. I was already propped against the backside of the vehicle, my gun against my shoulder and my shaky vision peering down the sight. My breathing was ragged with nerves, but I forced my hand steady. I had just gone from unconscious to battle ready. The whole process took only three seconds. That was the way of Proto dome. From childhood that was how we were taught.

"It's okay. You had been out for at least half an hour."

Even with the voice of my uncle speaking to me it was not at all possible to be completely at ease due to our training. He knew this as well as anyone, so he did not mind when it took me a moment to scan my surroundings and make the call for myself. After all, facts pertained to you and nobody could ever fully assert your well-being. If you heard a noise and nobody else heard it, you argued the point and still recommended a search. If you still felt threatened you knew it better than anyone. Therefore, he knew the futility of saying that everything was safe. However, it did give me enough of an idea of what to search for. Just as it had before, my mind quickly went through the established routines, breaking down my surroundings first with it finally touching upon my well-being. My head hurt. Bad. I could now feel the straps of cloth that held the gauze billowing against my cheek. I could also see the blood on the floor and where I had struck my head. I could also feel the stickiness of dried blood on my neck. It was not a lot, but it was enough to need medical attention. I would probably need to be stitched up.

I sighed and let my body slump into the chair, not minding that I was getting blood on the leather seating. My uncle would make me scrub it clean later, for sure, but at that moment I didn't care. The light-headedness I felt from my initial jolt was my price for my attentiveness. I allowed my vision to swim in circles and I felt as if I had been spinning in place only to let myself lay on the floor to feel its effect. When you are in battle it is a feeling to fear and loathe, but it was something fun to feel when you were safe. My muscles were tense, but since we exercised everyday they did not ache from over exertion. It would take quite an ordeal for my muscles to ache and that usually only happened after being punished by physical training.

"How far are we from home?"

"We are getting pretty close now. Just give it another five minutes. Are you hungry?"

I felt an apple land in my lap and I ate it without uttering any thanks. I savored each bite, chewing it so many times that the flesh was almost liquid by the time I swallowed. We had plenty of food, but it was always rationed and eating for enjoyment was unheard of. You ate what you needed. If you were a laborer, you got to eat more because you needed it more. If you were taller you needed more. If you were a man you needed more to keep up with your metabolism. Pregnant women received more, but just enough to ensure that the baby and the mother were at optimal health. So, I savored my apple because I knew that this constituted for sixty calories of my daily intake. My weight was one-hundred and twenty-eight pounds; ideal for a woman of 5'5. To stay at that weight I had to consume a minimum of one thousand two hundred and eighty calories daily, unless I was on a day of physical training wherein I may receive up to one thousand and eight hundred calories.

They would give me a decent meal tonight for this outing. I grinned at the thought.

What appeared to be a mountain began to take shape over the horizon. Of course, I knew it was not a mountain. It was far too close to a perfect sphere to be a mountain. As one drew closer you could begin to see the many defunct radio towers and satellites that lined its roof. The land around it had been cleared of debris years ago for security reasons, so there were no obstructions. Of course, we had approached it from the western side and the entry was southward. The edifice was so large that when you were a hundred yards away it seemed to stretch toward the heavens if you looked up. There was so much to it that it had not been fully explored. There had been original inhabitants at one point, but even they did not know the intricacy of the dome and all its many compartments. Even maps of the domes did not cover them entirely, but only by sections. Also, in the older days, there used to be many exits but they were sealed up to prevent intruders.

As we approached the southward entrance I looked upward to see the scout on duty. It was Malko, who seemed to be the textbook definition of bored as he toyed with his rifle. It seemed Malko had drawn guard duty again today and he signaled us from the metal scaffolding that was surrounded by tempered glasses. The glass had been cracked in many places where former would-be attackers tried to take out the guard by weapon fire. It had been sealed and repaired so many times that it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that perhaps none of the original glass was there anymore. He pressed a button and a large, barricaded door sprung to life. He disappeared from his place as he went inside to presumably oversee our safe passage through the tunnel. My uncle roared the vehicle to life and drive inward.

The southward entrance was a long corridor that stretched for a mile and was lined with automatic turrets. Although I did not see him, I was familiar enough with guard duty to know that there was another gate that Malko had to lower. It was a hydraulic gate that could open and close instantly. It was to be used in instances were citizens were being pursued. The attackers would be lured in and the first gate would be shut followed by the second gate. Those who had been pursued would be safe until the threat was eliminated. This was a valuable way to gain extra materials if the dome ever needed them. It was at this moment that Janice finally remembered the hunk of junk they carried in the back of their vehicle. Something caught her eye and she peered at the indention on the machine's leg. "Hmm, R66-Y." She groaned to herself and said, "Well, if we have to keep you, I'm just going to call you Robby."

* * *

After passing through the third and final gate, where a video surveillance camera monitored us to make sure everything was fine, we found ourselves in the hustle and bustle of the dome. I could hear the rhythmic thumping of boots on metal along with the chanting of drill instructors. The recruits jogged laps throughout the plaza, their fronts and backs already drenched with sweat. Likewise, there was the sound of shovels scrapping dirt as people toiled away in the green houses. Although I had not met them yet, I already knew that they were refugees. They came more and more often as word spread through the world about the stability of our dome. One day, after they proved their loyalty, they would be trained as recruits and would take up weapons like us. Just like it had been in the world before, you paid your dues before you climbed up. At least, that is what my uncle would say.

The vehicle lowered at the designated area for settling vehicles and my uncle dismounted. My head still hurt, so I didn't leap from the vehicle with my usual flourish. My uncle looked at me, appraising me with his eyes. "Are you alright to get yourself to the infirmary?"

"Yeah," I said without paying too much attention.

A hundred feet away from me I saw a man with olive skin and ebony hair. He had been doing his PT* and removed his shirt which was soaked in his own perspiration. His hands were reddened by the metallic rust of the floor, his body was dirty yet it glistened. He looked around, his dark eyes flashing and finding the bucket of water he had set out earlier. He took a long drink, letting the water spill down his bare chest before he dunked it over his body. Suddenly my own throat felt very dry and I found myself breathing just a little bit faster. I felt a hand punch my shoulder and I turned to face my uncle with a glare who did the same. "I said, 'Can you get to the infirmary?'"

"I just said I can! God!"

My uncle's face took on a deadly threatening look and I felt the blood drain from my face.

"I mean, 'yes, I can. I am going right now.'"

"Then get going."

It went through my mind how that could be possible. My uncle, who was never a fan of swearing, voiced his opinion but never went past that. But whenever I said "God" without it being followed with "thank you for" or "please" he grows ferocious. I never understood it. He was even that way with the recruits in the dome, but everyone spoke that way. He never truly mentioned what he found so offensive about that word and I never cared enough to find out. It was only in moments like those, where my uncle suddenly came to life in the most unpleasant way, that it mattered to me. I sighed in relief, seeing that perhaps he was far too busy to give it any more debate. I hardly ever lose my patience with him to that degree. I blame the big hunk of lust in the corner.

I couldn't help but turn and take another look only to gasp in embarrassment and surprise. He was staring directly at me. I quickly turned away, hoping that perhaps he was looking at someone behind me. I could hear the drill instructor shout out orders, and to my relief, I heard him say almost sweetly at first, "What's the hold up, Marcus? You feel like taking a bath? You sure are taking your sweet time. Want me to light you some candles and shit? Maybe put on some Wagner? Get the fuck back in line, cadet!" The drill instructor finished this as a angry shout. I stifled a giggle in case Marcus was still looking at me. I didn't want him to think I enjoyed him getting in trouble; it was just that the drill instructors never failed to make me laugh whenever someone else got chewed out. I heard his rhythmic breathing as the recruits began their training again, getting ready to circle around the dome one more time.

Now that I was no longer being watched, I began to jog lightly toward the infirmary. But not before I took one last look at the retreating form of Marcus...

* * *

_Author's note: So...been awhile on this one, huh? :D I feel really good about the material here and I already have an idea of how the next one is going to unfold. So, glad to finally update this thing. I'd love to do "Deformed Knight" next, but I'd have to reread it and find out where the heck I was and familiarize myself with the archaic English I used. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter._


	3. Stitches and Jibes

The Wasteland

I could feel myself whine. Gladys laughed at my behavior and it really made me want to punch her.

Gladys was a black woman that came to this dome almost five years ago. When I first met her she was a shell of a person. Of course she would never smile or laugh, or at least, she never would when she first came here. She was also very thin, sallow, and dirty when she first came to Proto dome. However, she had grown wider and more voluptuous since she came here. She wasn't fat, but she certainly wasn't skinny. She probably weighed around forty pounds more than me and was about my height. Her frown, which somehow stuck with me for years, was now the complete opposite. She was always joking, always laughing, and always smiling.

Her wider physique was the result of her medical expertise. She was one of the few doctors in a dome whose population consisted of over fifteen thousand people. Because of that, she was always on duty and was always needed. People who had special jobs in the dome received more rations to stay healthy and sometimes took too much advantage of it. There was another doctor who was a refugee and he stayed in fantastic shape, so I imagined that this was just a part of who Gladys was. She enjoyed life, which was saying something in this day and age. Her cheerfulness was infectious, but sometimes annoying when you weren't willing to be cheerful. This was the perfect example.

I could see the locks of my hair falling off one by one. The clippers buzzed as they passed through my hair with Gladys brushing the leftover strands off with her other hand. With each pass I could feel more air on my uncovered scalp and my eyes began to well up with tears. I fought against the urge and instead focused on making myself as mad as possible, and it worked. I cursed my uncle's name as Gladys finished the job and wiped my head down with a towel. My emotional switch to anger was already an improvement because Gladys was now being wary of my feelings. I could tell she was stifling a smile, but at least now she wasn't being obvious about it. I looked in the mirror and my face sunk. I had proved myself already in training and earned the right to my hair. I remember the first time it had to be cut and I felt the same way I did now. And now here I was...I was back to being a damn newbie.

"I'm sorry, Janice. I couldn't sew up your cut until I trimmed that hair around it. And I don't want you walking around the dome with a big huge square of missing hair in the back of your skull."

"It's not your fault. It's my damned uncle." I said, my face turning into a sneer.

It was so instinctual that I didn't realize what I was doing as I examined my head at all different angles, my finger stroking where my hair used to be. It was a habit of mine to twirl my fingers around my hair. It looked like I wasn't going to be doing _that_ any time soon. As I examined my face, me and Gladys had a conversation, but I was mostly absent-minded of it. I kept on thinking how I would be able to take the focus off my head. Also, I couldn't help but think to myself how ridiculous I was for being so upset over this. If the other recruits saw me over-reacting like this they would never let me forget it.

"So, what happened out there? How'd you get so banged up?" Gladys asked as she washed off her instruments.

"We were chased by sentries. They followed us through the ruins. One of them got high enough and almost landed in the car when it jumped. My uncle jerked the wheel and it missed us. But..." I tapped the back of my head to illustrate the point.

"Ah, so you guys had another foray into the ruins? I imagine there was no point to it, huh." This was more of a statement than a question.

"No, we found something."

Gladys paused as if stunned. She turned around and said with growing interest, "Oh? Really? What did you guys find?"

"An old hunk of junk...It probably won't do a thing anyway."

Gladys said a very unconvincing, "Yeah, I suppose you're right." There was a moment of silence and I knew that she wanted to ask me more about the discovery. However, in matters such as these, it was better not to get one's hopes up. Gladys went through the inner struggle while she washed her hands and slowly wiped them with a towel. After a few moments she sighed deep and threw the towel toward the counter in a signal that she would just have to live with disappointment. "Well, glad you are alright, lady. All you need to do is be careful not to scratch them. The stitches will disintegrate after two weeks, so don't get any bright ideas like taking them out yourself."

"I want my brains to stay inside me, Gladys." I replied with a smirk.

I grabbed my pack and headed toward the door. I waved Gladys goodbye who did the same. I made my way through the adjacent room which served as some sort of lobby and tried to ignore any jibes about my new hairstyle. This was to be expected, of course. Although we were a very large dome by comparison, most people knew each other and their families. It was like being in a community of obnoxious brothers and sisters and there was nothing you could do to keep them out of your business. Although it may have sounded charming, it could actually be a very bad thing. As Gladys remarked once, she was a favorite of everyone because she still was not comfortable enough to pry. It seemed like those who respected privacy around here avoided trouble, but in a mostly sealed off dome that was very hard to do...

"Yo! What's up, cue ball?"

I sighed as an excellent point caught my attention. My eyes fell on Seth; he was a very lean and lanky boy that I had known my entire life. He was probably the resident class-clown of our age group and was very much liked by the guys. As for myself? I could only handle him in doses, and by this point in the day I already had enough annoyances. I wanted to slug him, but doing that would have been a bad idea. He was, by far, the best hand-to-hand fighter in our age group and, save a few exceptions, perhaps the best in the dome. He had a natural gift for it and he danced through blows like water while twisting and flipping people with no effort. This gave him more freedom to be obnoxious since nobody was ever willing to shut him up. Once there was a drill instructor who tried to set him straight for goofing off and it ended badly for him. In the end, Seth had him pinned on the ground with the officer's hand pinned behind his back and Seth's knee trapping it at the shoulder. This was not met without punishment though. But I'll get to that later...

"Shut up, Seth."

He let his leg dangle from the beam upon which he was perched, looking down at me like some lynx in a tree at rest. "Now that's just rude. I was all concerned and shit, wanting to see how you were, and this is the thanks I get?"

I flipped him off and said, "There you go, thank you."

He frowned for only a moment before letting it go away. He let the hinges of his legs grip the beam from which he hung himself upside down. His shirt fell, exposing his thin yet defined stomach and pecs. He caught me looking and said, "Wha-? Why Janice! Are you checking me out?"

"Maybe in your sad, pathetic, lonely dreams." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, my dreams are never lonely," he said, feigning an air of offense, "you and your mom are in them all the time!"

I scowled for a moment and then tried to punch him in the stomach with several quick jabs. He blocked them all of course. By this point he and I were both laughing. At moments like these I always wondered how I could be annoyed by his company even though he always managed to get me to laugh and enjoy myself. He tucked himself in, grabbed the lower jutting edge of the beam, flipping himself upright, and lowered his legs to the floor. It was at that moment when he looked at me that I remembered the reason why. His eyes lingered on mine a bit longer than I would have liked and there was a moment of awkward tension between us. The feeling I had was amplified by what he had said earlier. I didn't doubt he had dreams about me, no matter how he made it sound. When he would joke with me I would forget how I had seen him watch me before, but then it would all come back to me. I could feel him watch me every once in a while and he stared often without realizing it. I looked away, absent-mindedly scratching my head by habit and winced as a result. He looked at me and spun me around before I could say anything. "Ah, damn. Looks like you got hit hard."

"Yeah," I replied, feeling unpleasant, vulnerable shivers go up my spine. I turned so my body faced him, while my eyes looked away from him. I formed a barrier as I reached across my own body to scratch my elbow. "My uncle is an idiot."

Seth was quiet for a moment and almost started in surprise as if he realized how close he allowed himself to get. He stepped back, clearing his throat before he said, "Oh yeah, I just wanted to let you know that they spotted refugees coming toward the dome."

"They did?"

"Yeah, so since you are going to be on detail you better be ready. They are walking though and are still far away. You guys are going out to them in about two hours. Also, you do know your uncle is talking in the auditorium, right?"

"Yeah, I was on my way to see him right now." I said this as I started walking. Seth moved as if he were going to escort me but then, thankfully, thought better of it and just waved me off.

Author's Note: The next chapter is pretty much already done. I just broke it up for fluidity's sake. It'll be up in a week. I finally have some time off and I want to write an update for as many of my stories as possible.


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